


You Make My Dreams Come True

by hashtagthot



Category: Beyoncé Knowles (Musician)
Genre: F/M, king of caring for his wife?? i think so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-09-22 14:38:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9611846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hashtagthot/pseuds/hashtagthot
Summary: I decided to make this a collection of out of order one off fics of them being gay....because I love them also I'm too lazy to flesh them out





	1. Beyoncé's feeling old

It was 2:54 in the afternoon and Beyoncé stood in front of the bathroom mirror, she gently touched the skin on her face. Where it once was smooth, she now had miniscule lines around her mouth. Where it once was effortlessly clear she now noticed blemishes appearing under her chin and around her brow line. She was getting old. Not old old, she was only 34, but trophy-wife-old. In fact in trophy wife years she was fucking ancient because once you hit 31 you were usually hit with divorce papers. Treasured no more. She stretched and felt her bones pop noisily. She searched and found the gray hair that caused her to have a nightmare a few weeks ago.Then her silk nightgown slid off of her frame and puddled around her feet. Cool air hit her skin and her head tilted while she examined herself. Not exactly searching for flaws, she was doing something more like a post-baby check up. Her thighs were still pretty nice. Her belly was mostly the same, a little softer but she didn't mind. She debated in her mind over whether or not a belly piercing was still appropriate at her age. “Appropriate at my age,” She said exhaling a laugh, “I sound like Jordan’s mother.”

She wondered whether or not all wives went through something like this or at least all wives like her. Ones that spent most of their days inside the house when they weren’t being shown off to sleazy looking men who turned something as supposedly sacred as marriage into a competition. The ones that were cut off or pushed aside while a younger, prettier, less demanding version of them slid in and took their place. Did they feel it happening? Did it start with a few miniscule wrinkles? Did they know they we’re so easily replaceable? She knew a lot of women that went through it but that wasn’t something you could just bring up without sounding vain and insensitive and that’s only okay when you’re still in the same tax bracket.

Now she had to make conversation with 25 year olds and that was hard because she once was the youngest of the women who got sent off to shop while their husbands talked business deals and maybe gambling. She wasn’t sure, Jordan always gave her the abbreviated versions of those conversations, only emphasizing how terrifically mind numbing they were. The long hours spent with the other wives was kind of fun once you acquired the taste for the conversational topics. Mostly it was about event planning, food, wine, and how all of those things intersect. She did learn a lot from those discussions (specifically, how to take the Jameson’s annual Christmas parties and throw rival ones that would shit on theirs every single year without fail) but she was more interested in marriage advice. How To Keep Your Man Satisfied In Bed’ advice, but instead of fun Cosmopolitan tips she got complaints.

Their husbands weren’t romantic enough, they didn’t spend enough, they didn’t give enough attention. Beyoncé had only been married a few months then and the women assured her that all the good things she loved about Jordan would be slowly bled dry and stripped away, if not by his job, then by peer pressure and if not because of peer pressure? He was a man and men have a burning need to conquer someone new and that it would only get worse the older they got.

Now she was the seasoned housewife. She got asked for advice. It helped a bit that Jordan didn’t change in the bad way she was warned he would. He was kind and giving. He was possibly the sweetest soul Beyoncé had ever met so she didn’t have to give the bitter answer but she was starting to understand why you would give it. You want to burst these girls bubbles. You want to ruin their fantasy because...because? Getting asked “How do you keep things fresh after so many years?” makes you feel like a geezer. People in their 20’s are fucking rude, honestly, how did they think that made her feel? She didn’t want to be in that gross overly-affectionate elderly couple that proudly groped at each others wrinkly body parts but she certainly didn’t want her and Jordan to be one of those prude-ish, equally wrinkly couples that only pretended to like each other. She assumed there was some middle ground but she hadn’t seen it yet, she just prayed she and Jordan would find it.

She pulled on her robe and lazily made her way into the kitchen noting how ridiculously cold it was in their house because Jordan liked it that way but he was at work and she could adjust the thermostat a tiny bit while she waited for him to come home right? Usually yes, but this time instead of their housekeeper named Susan, it was Jordan hunched over in the refrigerator.

“What are you doing home?”

He turned around, the makings of a turkey sandwich in his hands, “You sound so happy to see me.”

“I am but I saw you this morning and you’re supposed to be working.”

His brows lifted,“You have company coming that I need to leave for?”

Her voice got quieter, “I know you’re joking but I don’t think that’s a good joke to make after….” After a short lived affair that had happened near a decade earlier but was still too soon.

He laughed but there wasn’t any humor in it,“You say that like I did it.”

“Jordan.”

“Beyoncé.”

There was a long pause before she sighed,“Can we start over? What are you doing home, baby?”

He watched her while he sat his food down on the counter. “I was hungry.”

“Why not order in like always?”

He shrugged,“Wanted a sandwich.”

“There’s a deli like right down the street.”

“Bey, seriously, do you want me gone or something?”

“No, it’s just weird. I have to like beg you to come home sometimes so it’s jarring to see you home early.”

“Why are you naked this late in the day.”

“I just woke up, bubs.” She figured pet names would ease the tension.

He looked concerned now,“You always sleep this late?”

“I’m off schedule.”

“Did you eat today?”

“I was about to.”

“I’m making you a sandwich.”

“I don’t want relish on it.”

“I know you don’t.”

They ate on the sofa while he flipped through channels and settled on ESPN, she was more focused on watching him. His tie was off, a few buttons on his shirt open and when she touched her ear to his chest and heard his heartbeat she remembered how much she missed him being around.

“Jordy?”

He swallowed down a large chunk of his sandwich, “Yeah?”

“I think I’m getting too old for you.”

He snorted, “I’m older than you.”

“No, I mean, I think I’m looking and acting older and I don’t really have a purpose in your life right now and if I, for some reason, got really fucking old in a short amount of time we wouldn’t have anything left.”

He gripped her shoulders and made her look him in the eyes, “You know that’s not true.”

Her eyes were watering and moving frantically,searching for a way to explain how she was feeling,“I know, but I think it.”

“Where’s this coming from?”

“I don’t know you’re just gone a lot and I know you’ve always worked this hard. It just feels like we’re growing apart and so if you could just tell me I’m being ridiculous it would make me feel so much better.”

He was oddly quiet for an odd amount of time and that didn’t feel good to Beyoncé, who was spiraling deeper into her own mind the more time that passed.

“Jordan?”

 “I’m trying to think of a way to fix this.”

“I told you how.”

“That’s not going to last,” He linked their fingers and touched his forehead to hers, “I haven’t thought of it yet but you know I love you right?”

His lips touched the back of her hand and she only nodded in reply.

“What have you been up to lately?”

Sleeping and sulking. Fading into nothing.

“Not much.”

“Where are my little troublemakers at, huh?” At this point he was just trying to make her smile.

It wasn't working.“The nanny took JJ and Justice out for ice cream.”

“Why didn't you go?”

“I was tired and they have more fun without me. I'm...a wet blanket.”

“No you're not.”

“Jor-”

“Okay, you're being one right now but that doesn't mean you're not fun to be with.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Jordan there's nothing for me to do. I literally wait for you to come home all day.”

“You do plenty.”

“Like?”

“Who picks out all the fuckin,” He dragged out the N sound while he thought of what he was trying to say, “Decorations and shit. You took me to Pier 1 imports. I didn't even know that place existed.”

“Jordan, are you high?”

He rolled his eyes, “No, but you're pretty low. That's a little depression humor.”

“So yes?”

“I had a couple of brownies but don't worry I'm past the tripping balls stage.”

“I didn't know I was married to a 19 year old frat boy.”

His arm went around her shoulders and he pulled her into his chest.

“Yes you did but because I feel like we're getting dangerously off topic, you do loads of shit for me.”

“Jordan, every time we fight you tell me that all I do is spend your money.”

“Fuck, I put myself in a little situation here. Look, that's just shit I say because it's easy to bring up not because it's necessarily true. You bring up me working too much but you don't have any problems with the paycheck when it comes.”

“...I’m getting a lot of mixed messages from what you just said.”

“Baby I'm sure if I had to do the shit you do every day I wouldn't be able to handle it and we know that if you did what I do-,” He cut himself off, noticing how tense she had gotten waiting for him to say what he was about to say.

“You’d better reroute.”

“I think you'd kick ass.”

“Nice.”

“No, I mean it you were a great assistant. You fuckin laminated everything and put those little color tabs and like put it in order and not even just thickest files to thinnest. Actually organized shit.”

She sat up,“You fucked it up every night.”

“I didn't fuck it up.”

“Yes you did. You still do it.”

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“Like every night I go through your drawers and in your closet and I fix the shit inside so it's easy for you to get to in the morning and literally you fuck it up every day and it's not like you're mixing and matching shirts and ties you're just destructive.”

He kissed her once on the chin, “There you go, that's something you do.”

“I do that because I have nothing to do.”

“I thought it was because you loved me.”

“If I was doing it for love I would have stabbed you the fourth time you went Godzilla in your closet.”

“What if you got a job?”

“Ew, no what the fuck.”

“...Baby, I'm trying so hard right now.”

She laughed before shaking her head, “I barely see you now and I don't need to do it so there would be nothing keeping me there. It'd be a waste of time all I would do is quit and come home to you.”

The conversation continued while Jordan showered, “You could learn to cook.”

Beyoncé was half-heartedly flipping through a magazine,“Tried it, gave you food poisoning.”

“Best tasting food poisoning I've ever had.”

“You're a real romantic, J.”

The water stopped and soon Jordan emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist.  
He grabbed Beyoncé’s foot, “Want a hug?”

She pulled her legs up to her chest, “Do not get me wet and do not make a sex joke about getting me wet.”

“You've really put me in a bind.”

“Good.”

He reached and touched her thigh, seemingly forgetting the dilemma she was facing but once the towel dropped to the floor and he was inside her working up a rhythm it was apparent that he hadn't forgot he was just more concerned with other things.

Something like a whine came out of his mouth and flowed into her ears, followed by his voice that was a little deeper than usual, “Would you believe me if I told you I came all the way home just to dig you out?”

There was a definite attempt to respond but it turned into a loud squeaking noise somewhere along the way.

“That's not an answer.”

She was faced down, pinned under his body weight all except for one leg that he used for grip and leverage and honestly he was going yo have to cut her some slack because real words that actually made sense weren't coming to her in the moment.

His fingers gently scratched at her scalp before he pulled her head back and spoke directly into her ear, “I came home for you mama, that’s an hour and a half drive and you're not talking to me?”

She managed to choke out the words, “It's hard” before burying her face back in the pillow but he only pulled her back up.

“But you're a real trooper aren't you?”

“Jordan.”

“You wanna turn over?”

She barely processed the question before he pushed off of her and pulled out. She reached under herself trying desperately to fill in where he was.

“Lay on your back, I know what’ll get you talking.”

So, she couldn't talk but she could hear and once she was facing the ceiling, he took her fingers into his mouth before diving head first to taste from the source. She almost punched him in the face. It would've been an accident but he would've deserved it.

“Stop it.”

He looked up, his tongue still leisurely trailing along the outside of her pussy, his thumb still pressing against her clit, and he had the nerve to say, “Huh?”

“With your “huh” face ass! Put it back.”

He crawled over her laughing and hitching her legs over his as shoulders.

“You know why I wanted you on your back?” He was steadily rubbing her clit.

“Because I'm pretty?” He slid the length of himself against her, barely fitting the head in.

“That's right and I wanna see your face when I push inside you cause you're so pretty.”

Her throat felt tighter because of that and when he did push in he didn't give her any breaks, despite it being a steady, easy to keep up with pace she was having the hardest time remembering to breathe in. He however, wasn't having these issues until sometime around her third, unnecessarily intense orgasm when he started stopping as if something was throwing him off.

“Jordy are you okay?”

“Shhh.”

“Huh?”

“I love you, you're so sexy but I have something to tell you and if you talk I'll forget.”

“Why don't you tell me now?”

“I'm too high to fuck you and talk about anything other than fucking you at the same time .”

“...Got it.”

“Thank you beautiful.”

Her legs wrapped around his waist, she sucked and nipped at his neck and licked at his Adam's apple, all the things she knew he loved and soon he came on her stomach collapsing on top of her.

“You're heavy.”

“Art school.”

“What?”

“Remember you used to paint and sculpt? That made you happy.”

“Making a ceramic bowl isn't sculpting but I guess it did.”

“Pick it back up.”

“I'll think about it.”

“I want you to try it. I’m gonna pay for it.

Naturally, she wanted to say no just because he said to do it, but it did sound like a good idea,“Yes sir.”

“Thank you.”

“...So you really came home just for me?”

“Yeah and my dad showed up.”

“He didn't tell you he was in town?”

“It was some sort of power move, Bey. Anyway everyone's still kissing his retired ass and all I could really think about was how instead of putting up with his bullshit I could be with you instead.”

“You sound whipped.”

“I'm very whipped.”

“Stay that way.”

“You don't even have to tell me twice. “


	2. Jordan's birthday.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love my gays

In Beyoncé’s 25 years and four days on this earth she had learned many things and the most relevant lesson she could think of right now was that life will happen fast and while it’s happening you have to be present for it. 

She was a person who tried to remember each day that passed, an impossible feat because as humans our brains aren’t supposed to remember that much but ever since she turned thirteen she would attempt to write a full recount of what occurred during each day in a journal. Then, on September 4th each year, frustration would follow because she didn’t remember the things she wrote happening and because of the holes in her recounts. There were hours just missing, erased from time, forgotten. They were unimportant hours that her mind would filter out because it took up space for the memories that mattered but she couldn’t stand that. So at 19 she pledged to make every moment count and on her 20th birthday she learned that no matter what you do, there are things that will just slip your mind. 

This year for her birthday, after spending time with her family, feasting on fresh fruit and chocolate, she cracked open her journal to review year twenty-four and what usually took several hours took about 30 minutes. It was mostly blank pages and the pages that weren’t blank were barely paragraphs because at twenty-four, she’d been more focused on raising a newborn. 

Life did happen fast and there was no greater example of that than children because it seemed like every second they learned something new, saw something for the first time, did something for the first time and she couldn’t stay tucked away in her journal long enough to document it, witnessing it happen was the fun part.

They way her husband nearly cried every time he spoke to their daughter and the way JJ started to look more and more like her every month that went by. The way her husband snored when he slept on his right side and how it became helpful when it was her turn to stay up with the baby because he kept her awake. Little things she remembered without being able to recall how she learned them in the first place, like how to change a diaper and potty train a puppy at the same time because apparently it was possible for them to get on the same bathroom schedule. 

 

At twenty-five years and four days old she didn’t need to write down any of these things because what was important was right next to her, holding the child they’d made together on his knee and pressing small kisses into the side of her neck while his friends, employees and family sung him ‘Happy Birthday’ in the penthouse suite of the Four Seasons . 

She turned her head and spoke low into his ear, “You’re supposed to be paying attention.”

He shrugged, “It’s more for JJ, than it is for me.”

She nudged him gently,“It’s for the both of you.” They both eyed the little girl while she took in the world around her, reaching for the sparkler candles on the cake she was sharing with her father.

The song ended and Jordan grinned, saying thank you and egging on JJ so she could make sounds that were vaguely similar to ‘thank you’ before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

Jordan cut a slice of cake big enough for three and while feeding JJ a forkful leaned over to his wife, “Your turn.”

She looked up, doe-eyed as if she didn’t know what he meant, “My turn?”

He reached over, tickling her side, “My birthday toast mama, you owe me.”

“I’m gonna kick your toasts ass.”

“You’ve had four days, you sure that’s enough time?”

She kissed him laughing, they were both a little bit drunk at this point, “I got this,” she scratched at his thick facial hair, “Did your mom tell you to shave the beard yet?”

He laughed louder than that question required and held up three fingers, “5 times.”

She stood up, waving her hand for a microphone,“No more drinks for you.”

One of the servers they’d hired came up and handed her the wireless mic. She flicked the switch on with her thumb, grabbed her champagne glass, and tapped it with her fork. The room quieted down and Jordan went between smiling up at her and down at their daughter.

“Okay so, this is gonna take a little while...because I’m a little drunk,” The guests who were at this point probably a little drunk too laughed.

Jordan’s best friend, Majid clapped loudly, “Right on.”

She rolled her eyes, she loved him but he was a bit of a party animal, which wasn't to say she and Jordan weren't; they'd been partying for nine days straight and had the tans to show for it, “Hush before I lose my train of thought,” She swallowed hard and went on, “First, I wanted to thank all of you for coming because I know you all have your own lives and schedules and it means a lot to me that you’d take the time off to help me celebrate and I know it means a lot to Jordan because I know how much he cares about y’all.” 

 

She pushed her hair behind her ear and then thought about what she wanted to say, “Jordan is the greatest man I know and I’m not saying that because I have to go home with him, I mean it, he’s so kind and thoughtful and I know from experience that he’s a wonderful boss,” She paused biting her lip, “I may be a little biased there because I got a little special treatment.” Majid slapped Jordan on his back and he shrugged his shoulders, “Can you blame me? You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you, baby.”

“No problem, gorgeous.”

Their eyes met and it reminded her she needed to convince someone to babysit last minute, tonight. 

“I’m sure everyone here has a story about you helping them in some way because you’re just that generous Jordy you’d give until you don’t have it to give,” The mention of not having made him chuckle and she addressed him directly this time, “I wanted to thank you because everything that I have right now, I have because of you and I knew my worth before but you were one of the first people other than me to see it and that helped me so much. The last four years with you have been so amazing, you’re a dream come true, Jordy.” 

Jordan’s hand rubbed at the inside of her thigh and she couldn’t tell if he was being forward or just trying to touch her anyway he could but either way his touch and the memories that came to her mind made her voice a little shakier.

“Thank you for being an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on and for letting me call myself your wife and because,” she turned to face the guests, some were holding sparklers and eating cake, and some knew what was coming next just from the emotional expression that was forming on Beyoncé’s face,” I don’t know if everyone in this room was here last year but around this time, I went into early labor and four days after my birthday, on your birthday, you made me a mother and that’s better than anything you could ever think to buy for me. I love the both of you so much, you make me so proud and I wanna spend every moment I can with the two of you.” 

She raised her glass and figured it’d be nice to end with a joke, “To both of my babies and in ten years, when I turn 26 I hope I can wear it as good as you did J.” The room echoed her sentiments and laughed. 

Jordan pulled her down for a kiss and she handed the mic off, sitting back in her seat next to him,“Did I beat you?”

“That was a pretty good speech, stranger.”

“I think I’ll call this a tie.”

“I’ll allow it.”

“We’ll see next year.”

“You start preparing yet?”

“About five minutes ago.”

“That's great for me because I started five minutes after I gave mine.”

She eyed him,“Jordy you know when you prepare for things I get hot.”

His hand returned to the inside of her thigh and this time she knew he was getting fresh, “That's my angle here.”


	3. A drunken return

Beyoncé’s giggling could be heard from inside, she had dropped her keys for what had to be the fourth time while trying to get her suitcase to sit straight up and it never dawned on her to knock when her husband was surely home. None of the women currently leaning out the windows of the stretch limousine, drunkenly yelling encouragement realized either.

She was kneeling over patting the ground in search of her keys again when the front door swung open and Jordan reached down picking them up along with her suitcase.

A dopey smile spread across her face, she got even louder,“Jordan, you saved me.”

“It's three in the morning, Bey, we have neighbors.”

Beyoncé blinked before sticking her tongue out and blowing a raspberry, “Who called the cops?”

He pulled her back to her feet, ignoring the boos coming from the limousine. “I’m not the cops.”

“You’re the fun police. The stripper kind.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah but you suck cause you don’t have a uniform.”

Cheryl, the wife of Jordan's friend Dave, stuck her head out of the roof, “TAKE IT OFF!”

Beyoncé snatched her hand away from Jordan almost losing her balance, “That's my husband bitch I'll beat your fucking ass,” she turned back around to face Jordan, “Don't strip for her.”

“I think you should tell your friends goodnight, Bey.”

“Night, sluts.”

There was a wave of overlapping farewells that started going in circles.

He gently pulled her inside, grinning and she threw her limbs around him and buried her face in his neck. It made closing the door a job.

“I think you’re a little drunk, angel.”

“It was a long drive,” she was busying herself nosing at the facial hair on his cheek, “I missed you so much.”

“Did you have fun?”

She frowned, “I missed you.”

“You told me but outside of missing me, did you have fun?”

“A little bit.”

“See? What’d I tell you?”

“Don't mix drugs.”

“And?”

“Don't talk to the pigs.”

He kissed her forehead and carried her into the kitchen, leaving her suitcase by the stairs, “You're funny but what else?”

She pretended to think, “If I get in trouble, I should call your lawyer.”

“That's my girl.”

What he'd actually told her before she left was to give people chances. She wasn't too sold on the idea then and she'd all but begged him to get her out of it. He refused simply because no one that knew her would believe that Jordan forbid her from going on that trip and she listened.

“It wasn't that fun,” he set her down on the counter and she lost her train of thought, “I want a fruit bar.”

He flipped open their freezer,“What kind?”

“The strawberry one. We can share it.”

He fished around around for it before pulling a chair to the counter and taking off the wrapper.

“Tell me about the trip.”

“We ate and shopped and-” she whispered and it was just as loud as her regular speaking voice “-they dropped acid.”

“Holy shit.”

“Uh-huh.”

The fruit bar had two stick and she wrapped her finger around the second and bit a piece off with her molars, “It's cold.”

“It's frozen.”

“You're so smart.”

“So where were you when they were doing it?”

“In bed pretending to sleep ‘cause it didn't seem safe AND I didn't wanna try it without you cause you’re my drug buddy.”

He bumped his fist against hers, licking up the side of the already melting popsicle. “That's so romantic of you.”

“What can I say?”

“Anything else happened?”

“I found out Dick is cheating on Chelsea. Did you know that? I didn't know that. She doesn't even care ‘cause she got a new car out of it.”

“Dick’s an asshole, babe.”

“Dick’s a dick. We yelled it on the highway a bunch of times like a protest.”

“Stuck your head out the sunroof?”

She nodded and then sulked, “We almost got pulled over.”

“How do you almost get pulled over?” His side of the frozen treat was gone but he still held it up for her to lick at in between storytelling.

She snorted, “Terese flashed him.”

“Huh?”

“Pulled out her titties but the best part in the whole world is that we're boob job twins.”

“What's that?”

“We had the same surgeon and I felt hers, they're softer than mine.” She was pouting and the tone Jordan took with her was sweet and gentle.

“Yours are newer.”

“Hers are silicone.”

“And?”

“I want silicone. I don't care about my stupid ass bloodstream, I want better tits than Terese.”

“Am I the bad guy for caring about your safety?”

Her chin quivered before she kicked her foot back into the base of the counter, “Yes.”

“It's too late for that, Bey.”

It was also too late to stop the tantrum she was throwing, only a little less sharp than usual because she was absolutely sauced.

She had tasked herself with trying to swing her legs up onto the counter so she could roll to her stomach and make her regular angst-ridden ‘Jordan Said No’ noises but he lifted her up and placed her on the floor before she could fall and get hurt.

“You're being so mean right now.” She was pushing herself to get upset.

“You don't even know what you're trying to cry about.”

“I'm not trying to cry I AM crying.” She was squeezing her eyes closed, trying to at least make them well up.

He tossed the popsicle in the sink, realizing she probably wasn’t going to finish it,“It's not working you should try again tomorrow.”

She decided to lay out on the floor in protest.

“Bey.”

“No.”

“No what?”

“I forgot but it's still fuck you.”

“Okay, let's go upstairs and you can be mad at me there.”

“No.”

He took a few steps away from her and turned off the lights, “Goodnight beautiful.”

“Jordan, no, I could die.”

She heard him laugh and then flip the light back on.

“Come on then.”

“I'm too heavy to walk,” she said while walking over to him and semi-climbing him until he gave in and carried her up the stairs.

Halfway up, she grabbed onto the railing and almost made the both of them fall.

“Don't fucking do that!”

“Suitcase.”

“It can wait.”

“Yeah but I need it. I got us stuff.”

He trekked back down the stairs and pulled the suitcase all the way up to their room before practically throwing Beyoncé on the bed.

She popped back up immediately, her hair draped over her eyes like a veil. “Open it.”

He unzipped it and wads of money fell out to the floor along with a few articles of clothing.

“What’s all this?”

“I brought home money.”

“Honey, what did you do?” He sounded like he was considering the possibility of her and a group of housewives robbing someone in Vegas.

“I won it.”

 “You gamble now?”

She made a noise of dismissal and flopped out of bed onto the floor, kicking her heels off. “When we got there, we played truth or dare and then they dared me to call you and ask for a divorce and not say anything until I got home and they were like ‘she’s not gonna do it’ cause they’re jealous of how much you love me and I was like ‘Wanna bet?’ and they did! But then I was like ‘I don’t know’ ‘cause...what if you thought I was s-,”she hiccuped and breathed out a short laugh, “-serious? but I’m smart baby, I called my answering machine.”

 “How much money is this?”

 “Like, twenty.”

“Twenty-thousand? Just to call me and pretend to want a divorce for five days.”

“They said it’s cause I love you so much.”

He sat next to her on the floor and kissed her forehead, “I’m glad you love me that much.”

Drunk her was a dweller. The longer she sat the more she kept repeating to herself that she loved him. A lot. More than a normal amount. More than she loved like...anyone. The love she felt for him was almost overwhelming. It was dizzying, it could move her to tears, she felt that way most of the time but she was more sensitive to it now.

He ran his thumb over her cheek, feeling a tear that had fell, “What’s wrong?”

 She was also a whiny drunk. “Nothing,” she dragged out the vowels in the word before her voice broke, “I just love you a whole lot.”

He was used to it now, endeared, more accurately speaking. Besides he could understand it; he felt that way too.

“You told me.”

“But I really love you and I didn’t say why.”

“Shoot.”

 She stood up and climbed back on the bed in only two tries. “Come sit with me.”

He obliged and instantly her arms were around his neck and her lips, still cool from the popsicle, pressed against his ear.

“I love you because you let me hug you all the time and you’re warm.”

“Thank you, baby.”

“And you bought me new titties.”

 “You were just mad because you wanted silicone.”

“But it’s dangerous.”

“That’s what I was telling you”

“Shut up, I’m not done,” She sat up and reached under his t-shirt pulling it up until his stomach was exposed. He’d been working out a little more often and when he inhaled you could catch a glimpse of his ribcage and she watched it disappear and reappear for a few minutes before leaning in and licking at the bone.

She could cry again and she didn’t try to figure out why, she was preoccupied thinking of how to put her next point.

She kissed his hands, the palms, his knuckles, the tips of his fingers; she loved the anatomy of him. He often made fun of himself, he didn’t think he was that much of a looker, especially compared to her but she adored the way he looked.

 “The way you’re made. You’re a beautiful ass person, I love you so much. The way your bones come together under your skin, the person you are. I’m in love with you.” He could tell she was slowly sobering up, grounding herself in her feelings. “You were made for me, Jordan.”

She meant it, she couldn’t fully comprehend what was bringing about this honesty in her but it felt nice to say these things to him. He deserved to hear it, he made her feel that loved every day.

She went on messily detailing reasons she loved him, slowly undressing him along the way before he helped her out of her own clothes and she was lowering herself onto the length of him. Noisily exhaling at the welcome burn that came from her body stretching to accommodate his. Neither of them moved, savouring the feeling they’d been deprived of for the past five days. She missed him in general but after the first few days on the trip she especially missed the way he felt inside her.

 He went to lay back against their pillows and she was so on edge and present that even that small movement from him, she felt in her stomach. It was enough to make her squirm and take in deeper breaths.

“I thought of something else.”

“You did?”

“I love you because you’re good to me and you treat me like your favorite person.”

“That’s because you are.”

She giggled and braced her hands against his chest moving her hips leisurely, “You’re my favorite person too.”

He gripped onto her waist and pushed his heels into their mattress to thrust up into her. Beyoncé leaned closer so that he could take one of her nipples into his mouth.

She was somewhat quieter than usual and he was slowly getting louder the faster he went. Every time she’d lift up and sink back onto him she could feel how wet she was, it ran down his dick to his balls and made a crass squishing sound every time he pushed in as deep.

Soon enough, he was using both hands to keep her still while fucked her into a sobbing fit. She cradled her face in his neck, squeezing her eyes shut. What was once screaming was now needy open mouthed gasps with occasional short, throaty moans breaking through. She was soaked now, it was getting hard to keep his dick from sliding out of her. They were both covered in sweat, licking at each others skin both for the taste and the sensation of it. Beyoncé felt greedy sometimes, no matter how much of Jordan she got she always wanted more and he was happy to give it. She came, her body going stiff for what felt like minutes but in reality was only seconds before release traveled through her and she was back chasing the feeling again, her hips rolling faster than the tide, pinching at her nipples.

Jordan had no problem helping, pulling at her hair the way she always asked him to, fucking her hard and deep the way she’d be demanding him to if she could find any other words but “Oh my God” and his name at the moment. And from the way she was looking at him through heavy eyelids and semi crossed eyes she was getting him and God a little confused.

She bit her lip in an attempt to not yell in his ear but a clear high pitched squeak came out anyways she came messily touching her lips to his and whispering her love for him over and over.

When she felt like she might pass out if he touched her anymore she pushed off of him and he groaned at the loss of sensation.

It was his turn to whine, “Baby.”

“I’m gonna take care of you.” She kissed him on the lips and then pressed a kiss to the tip of his dick, come rubbing off on her lips and chin. She took him into her mouth and because he was all about fairness or, in Beyoncé’s opinion, demonry, he pushed two fingers inside of her nearly making her choke.

Sucking him off was never easy for her but she liked a challenge and she liked impressing him. Every time she found a new way to excite or surprise him, it pleased her. She could hardly do it when they were fucking, he had too much strength. This way she controlled the pace and if she put in a ton of effort she could determine how long it’d last. She liked getting her mouth fucked and he never passed up the opportunity to do it, she moaned around him both because he liked when she did it and because of the way his fingers felt. He added a third and she pushed until he touched her throat.

She rode against his fingers and then pulled her mouth off him to clean them off with her tongue before giving his dick her full attention again. His lower half lifted off the bed and he thrusted wildly into her warm, generous mouth until he came, loud but still whimpering. She took her time spitting it back onto his dick and licking him clean a few times before she swallowed, leaving nothing behind.

He pinned her to the bed kissing her entire face. “You’re amazing.”

“Mhmm. I bought us something.”

“In your suitcase?”

She nodded and reached over pulling her luggage closer by the open top, she dug around until she found what she was looking for.

“Wanna be surprised?”

“Why not?”

She waited for him to cover his eyes before throwing the little box of condoms.

He looked and nearly hit his head on the bed post laughing.

She was tearing up from trying not to laugh,“We didn’t have any and I know how important it is for you to keep some handy.”

He grinned, “Just in case.”

“Just in case.”

“These are great, I’m gonna put them in the nightstand so we can get to them faster.”

“You’re so smart.”

“A genius,” He kissed her, sweet and affectionate, “You’re gonna be so hungover tomorrow.”


	4. Beyoncé wants a child.

When Jordan usually took a day off it was a special occasion and Beyoncé went out of her way to make his time off worth it and that wasn't hard to do; any time they spent together was a good time. They loved each other and enjoyed each other's company that much. 

Rarer than Jordan's off days were the days when both of their children were out of the house at the same time and this particular time those two events synced up.

How were they going to take advantage of it? By sitting in bed and watching reality tv although Beyoncé was mostly watching Jordan a few hours into it. 

She nudged him with her foot. “Jordan.”

His eyes were glued to the screen, someone was throwing a drink, “Yeah?”

“Don’t you feel like something’s missing?”

“What on the show? Yeah, proper communication techniques.”

She kissed her teeth,“No goofy, I mean here.”

“More junk food.”

“Jordan, no, isn't it like eerily quiet around here?” She was hoping he’d catch her drift and she could segue into the conversation she'd been practicing for the last month. She'd worked out all the details she just needed him in a good mood and in the right space which is why she gave JJ and Justice $100 each and told them to beat it.

“That's a good thing, Bey.” He was supposed to say, ‘The sound of children.’ He was ruining her seamless transition.

“You aren't kind of bored?”

“I'm relaxed,” He pulled her legs into his lap,“Why aren't you relaxed?”

“I am totally relaxed, I just think this silence is off putting.”

He leaned over and kissed her nose, “You know what I think could help fill up the room?”

“What?” She was hoping he'd say the cooing of a freshly born baby but she knew her husband.

“The sound of this headboard against the wall while I Justin Timberlake rock your body.” 

He was laughing and kissing all over her face, “You're like so proud of yourself and it's so sad.”

“It was funny.”

She pushed him off,“It wasn't, I promise.”

“I can't get a kiss?”

Plan B: Sulk until he figured out why and just gave her what she wanted. “I'm not in the mood.”

He snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

“I'm serious.”

“We've been together sixteen years and I'm positive I can count on maybe both hands the times you've been out of the mood and half of those times you were sick or postpartum.”

She saw an opening and took it,“Speaking of, don't you miss when J & Jussie were tiny?”

His eyes narrowed in confusion, “I like them better now that they're potty trained and can feed themselves.”

“You don't miss having a baby around?”

“Bey.”

“Their tiny little baby feet and the little baby sounds they make.”

“Beyoncé.”

“The brand new baby smell.” At this point tears were trailing down her cheek, she loved babies that much.

He put the tv on mute,“You want another baby?”

“Desperately.”

“Okay, maybe we should evaluate ourselves for a moment. We're barely raising these ones right.”

“We're amazing parents.”

“Beyoncé our children can't google us.”

She scoffed,“So? What's a nude picture in the grand scheme of things?”

He made a loud whining noise,“Baby, they just got to the age where we can kind of start back cussing around the house again.”

“We never stopped cussing around the house.”

“But now we can do it without guilt.”

“Jordan, they're all big and independent now it's awful. They won't even pretend to like my cooking anymore.”

“Right now we have equality on our side there's one of us for one of them and if we have a third one we're outnumbered and fucked.” He made good points but she'd already made up her mind.

“By time this one's at an ungodly age the other two would be grown and moved out...possibly.”

“The little one can go to them for advice on how to outsmart us and we're not that clever, babe, we can't come up with new parenting tricks.”

She was fighting the urge to throw a tantrum because this didn't seem like a battle she'd win with it.

“Listen, I am 37 that's three years from 40, that's like countdown to menopause time and if we don't do it now we have less of a chance to do it later. These are like...limited time only eggs, Jordan. Just crack an egg. One more time. That's it. We'll be done.” She was illustrating her point with hand gestures, the way she did when she was really passionate about something.

“That's not countdown to menopause years.”

“It could be. You don't know my body.”

“We lucked out having two really cute kids despite my genes. Imagine what could happen if we tested fate a third time.”

“So you remember how cute they were?”

“He sighed, “Baby, I don't think you're being reasonable.”

She hopped out the bed and went into her closet, pulling out the baby photo albums and running back to her spot.

They were full and heavy, Jordan and Beyoncé took pictures of everything including each other.

She flipped open the first one, trailing a finger over JJ’s birth certificate, “Look how cute her little footprint is, Jordy.”

“It is cute.”

Beyoncé was flipped through the book, ooh-ing and bringing up memories from the days the pictures were taken. Relishing in the feeling of his resolve weakening.

“We make good kids, huh?”

“The third one could be our best yet.”

“And you've thought this through and there's no changing your mind?”

“Yes.”

He groaned and she opened the second book turning to the first father's day card JJ and Justice made him and started reading it outloud.

“Daddy, thank you for making us our money and cooking the best pancakes ever. You're better than Ihop, we love you.”

"They're not even that nice anymore."

"Bitch, the point is that they love you."

"Wow."

"Jordan, look at their baby handwriting and the little drawing."

He attempted to hide a smile, “Fine.”

She launched herself at him, “Thank you.”

“Can we mess with the kids about it?”

“Of course.”

“Then I'm pleased.”


	5. Dye and 90's porn.

“Look at her, her boobs are almost bigger than her head.” Beyoncé struggled trying to pull her head up from hanging off the edge of their bed and settled for slapping at the back of Jordan’s head and pointing at the television.

He looked up at the adult film star walking around aimlessly on screen, it was still pretty early in the film, her clothes were still on. “They're nice.” He went back to bleaching her pubic hair a task he was taking far too serious but it was comforting considering how catastrophic it would be if he got it in the wrong place.

They'd been watching a series of pornos and right now they were only on 3 out of 10 and it'd proven to be a fun semi-newlywed activity.

“They're more than nice.”

He shrugged,“I like the last girl's better.”

“The redhead?”

“The blonde one but speaking of hair color, which one are we doing?”

“What do we have again?”

He fished through the small bin of various dyes they’d bought a few days ago.“Blue, green, a neon orange, an ugly purple-”

“It is not ugly.”

“I feel like I'd see it and think of Grimace.”

Beyoncé snorted,“What are you thinking?”

“I get to choose?”

“You see it more than I do.”

“What about dirty blonde?”

“I don't think I like the idea of having a color called dirty down there.”

“It's kind of tame anyways.”

The woman on screen popped her shirt open.

“I want mine to be like hers.”

“That big?”

“Well, not that big but bigger than they are now.”

He gave her an encouraging nudge with his elbow. “They're a good size.”

“They're like mosquito bites.”

“They're bigger than that, you have grapefruits.”

She pushed up on her elbows with force. “These are not no damn grapefruits, I’ve held grapefruits before, mine are barely clementines.”

“I've held clementines, you have mandarins.”

“I want cantaloupes.”

“Yeah, well I want an eggplant but it's not in the cards is it?”

“Jordan, if you had anything closer to an eggplant I would literally leave you.”

He fixed his face to look hurt.“That's awful. What happened to for better or worse?”

“Fuck that, in fact, you could stand to lose a little girth as it is.” She got stressed thinking about it.

“You liked it on the guy from ‘Gutbusters ‘99’ a few minutes ago.”

“I didn't say I liked it, I said it was impressive and it couldn't be real and that doesn't matter because I'm not the one taking it.”

“You're tough.”

She nodded. “‘Cause I meditate.”

“You have to go all ‘Empire Strikes Back’ to get nailed?” 

“I mean sometimes.”

“I’m kind of proud of myself.”

“I'm more proud of me but I see why you would take that as a compliment.”

“It's a good problem to have.”

She sighed dramatically, “If only I had bigger titties,knockers, if you will, maybe I'd know the feeling.”

She eyed him pointedly and he started to get a feeling for where this conversation was going.

“What are you asking for?”

She collapsed back onto the bed nearly hitting the back of her head on the frame.

“Oh, nothing, it's just it'd be nice if my big, strong, well endowed husband would buy me a sensible pair of implants. Preferably a D cup.”

“No.”

She sat back up. “NO?” She was quite literally awestruck.

“It's dangerous.”

“You do cocaine!”

“Don't be like me.”

“Jordan PLEASE.”

“We're not watching anymore porn because it makes you a fuckin’ crackpot.” He got down off the bed and she followed him to the bathroom.

“WOW, okay actual crackhead.” 

“It's not crack, it's coke.”

“Same difference AND it's not because of the porn I wanted ‘em anyways.” She would've grabbed his hands for emphasis but he was taking off his gloves.

“Since when?”

She angled the showerhead to rinse the bleach out without getting her shirt wet. “Since forever.”

“Really?”

“Well, in teenaged years forever.”

He leaned against the shower wall, his face scrunched in confusion, “Are we supposed to use shampoo?”

“I mean it's hair right?”

“Wouldn't it be irritating?”

“No more than bleach, I don't think.”

“I guess.”

She thought about it,“I'll do shampoo and body wash.”

She held out her hands and he squeezed generous amounts into her palms and got back on topic.

“It's not that dangerous anymore.”

“I'd be worried.”

“I could die at anytime.”

“That's comforting.”

“No, I mean like I could go outside and get hit by a bus or something there's no point in not living because you're scared.”

“Bey-”

“Plus, they could identify my body with the serial number on the implants. I read that in a book once.”

“And?”

“And I already went for a consultation and the doctor is really, really nice and professional and he showed me this book of befores and afters and you could hardly tell they were implants.”

“Beyoncé.”

“Jordan, I am desperate.”

“You're dramatic.”

“I stuffed my bra in our wedding pictures.”

“What?”

“I stuffed my pushup bra because it had like nothing to push up. When we get our photos in the mail you'll see it.”

She noticed the corners of his mouth twitching. “Don't laugh, it's not funny, it's sad. I had toilet paper in my bra at my wedding, like it was prom or something.”

“You stuffed your bra for prom?”

Yes and it was traumatic to have to do it again five years later.”

“That's very lifetime movie of you.” He was giggling at her misfortune.

“It's gonna be a lifetime movie when you mysteriously die and I take the life insurance and buy new tits.”

She pushed past him going back to their room grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her waist.

“You'd get caught.”

“I'd be in prison with a nice rack.”

“That sounds like the porno we watched earlier.”

“Don't be a fucking pervert I’d be in prison!”

“I'd be dead!”

“Dead men don't fantasize.”

“I'd be watching from heaven.”

He climbed back into bed, moaning and panting coming from the tv. 

“I think it's humorous that you expect to go to heaven.”

“I'm going wherever you go and you're an angel.” He tried to kiss her and she turned her head.

“I'm not going anywhere with you because while on earth you forced me to stay flatchested.”

“There's nothing wrong with small ones.”

“I didn't say there was but I have the nipples fit for a fuller chest and one of them is saggier than the other one.”

“I never noticed.”

He attempted to kiss her again with the same outcome. “You noticed.”

“I didn't care.”

“I do.”

He kept poking her in the side hoping she'd loosen up and smile and had no luck. “Fine.”

“Thank you!”

He caught her wrists before she could hug him. “I wanna meet the doctor.”

“Duh, of course you will. He said it's like having a baby he's gonna be with us every step of the way.”

“Sure, whatever pick a color.”

“How about neon pink?”

He gave her a high five. “Nice.”

“It's out of the box, right?”

“You're one of a kind, kid.”


	6. An hour fast.

“Would you take it wrong if I said I was almost sleepy?”

Jordan's words made Beyoncé laugh. It was distant and it had an echo to it because it came from the bathroom but it was still his favorite sound in the world.

“How sleepy?”

“Like I could sleep. I'm more sleepy adjacent now that I think about it.”

“Is it cause of the bed?”

“It's a soft bed but I think it's these birds.” Loud, singing, St. Lucian birds that were right outside their open window.

“You wanna wait till tomorrow?”

“Fuck no. I've been waiting since like March. ”

“There's so much pressure now.”

“There's no pressure because you're you and I know how thorough you are.”

“Cover your eyes.” He kicked his legs over the edge of the bed and pulled one of complimentary blindfolds they received over his eyes. He could hear Beyoncé nearing him and then he felt her peck him on the lips.

“Thorough isn't sexy.”

“It is to me.”

“Okay then finding and altering this get-up took forever and I had to take classes.”

“Shh, I'll get hard too fast and pass out.”

She snorted and he got impatient.

“Can I look now.”

“It's 11:57.”

“You could always cheat.”

“You made me wait for my gift.”

“You were at your gift you just couldn't see it.”

“You bringing me here was not my gift.”

“It was one of them.”

“No, this was a gift to your daughter.”

He played dumb. “What?”

“I know she's having a birthday party.”

“Without us? No.”

“Y'all are shitty liars and I know she didn't want me there.”

“She’s growing up.”

“She’s my baby.”

“A fifteen year old baby. Who, by the way, is a little more responsible than we were at fuckin...24.”

“When you were 24 you were having a baby.”

“Because I wasn't responsible enough for condoms.”

“What about now?”

“Now? I'm too old to make anymore babies.”

“Well, you coul-”

“Beyoncé.”

“We don't know that yet. Tons of people have children in their 40’s. ”

“Jackie’s not even one.”

“But like….if we wanted another I just wanted it to be clear we have that option still.”

“No more.”

“No more. For now.”

“Bey.”

“Fine, I'm not gonna argue but only because it's 12:00 now.”

He lifted up his blindfold and was greeted with the image of Beyoncé leaning over, propping herself up by her hands pressed into the area of the matress between his legs.

Most of her hair was seperated into two buns while the outer edges were left to hang and do as they pleased. Their noses brushed against each other and he rubbed at his eyes, trying to readjust to the light.

“Happy birthday, partner.”

“You look pretty, mama. Can I see the rest?”

“Sure can do.” She pushed off the bed and twirled around giving him a full view of her western inspired outfit. She'd turned dark, distressed jeans she'd outgrown into assless chaps with fringe and a matching bra that tied behind her neck.

Jordan clapped and let out a low whistle. “That's awesome. What does your ass say?”

She looked over her shoulder as if it would aid her in seeing what was scribed onto the white panties she was wearing.  
“Buckwild.”

He flopped back down onto the bed. “I love you.”

“You want your dance now.”

“I'd love my dance. You have rope?”

She pulled it loose from her belt loop and hit play, the opening notes to Ginuwine’s Pony started blasting from her phones speakers. It made them laugh how unbelievably cheesy she could be.

“Come here, birthday boy. I have to hog tie you.”

He kicked off the bed and she bound his wrists together and pushed him back before making her way to the pole Jordan had installed the day before.

She walked around it once, hanging off before grabbing it with both hands and spinning just for the fun of it.

“Good job babe!”

“Shut up. I can't do it if I'm laughing.”

She grinded against the pole, inwardly wincing at how cold it was before pulling herself up and gripping it with her thighs and letting her hands drop.

“You can do it hands free? My wife's a professional.”

She wasn't joking when she said she couldn't do it if she laughed. She moved her thigh on accident and came sliding down fast, softening the blow with her heel but ultimately landing on her butt.

“You even fall beautiful.” Jordan came over and crouched down to kiss her on the lips.

“You're so annoying.”

“Untie me.”

“There's more.”

“Show me later.”

She loosened the knot and he freed his hands just to scoop her up and carry her back to the bed.

He moved on top of her and felt something hard against his hip.

“You brought a whip?”

She tugged at his bottom lip with her teeth and threw the whip to the floor. “In case you were bad.”

His eyes widened and she couldn’t tell if he was surprised or just into it. “You thought of everything.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Where’s your hat?”

“It didn't match but I brought it here for you.”

“Me?”

“You know, ‘save a horse ride a cowboy’? That’d be you.”

“Wow.”

She rolled out from under him and stretched over the edge of the bed pulling out the bottom drawer of the dresser, she felt him grabbing at her ass.  
“I also bought those tiny little bottles of Jack Daniels but that's more for me.”

“Of course, cowboy.”

She turned over and sat up, placing the hat on his head, cracking open a little bottle of whiskey and handing him the other.

“Wanna do a toast?”

“How about to you in chaps, me turning 40 and the fact that we don’t have to be quiet for the sake of any children tonight.”

“Cheers.” She tapped her bottle to his and took a small swig, sitting on his lap.

“I'm thinking about it and you know what?”

“What?”

“It's kind of sexy having a 40 year old husband.”

He took off the hat and sat it on her side of the bed.“You think so?”

“You have the salt and pepper beard thing going for you.”

“You like old guys?”

“I think I do.”

“I use glasses to read now, does that make you hot?”

“Did you bring them?”

“In my suitcase.”

She threw her head back and moaned.

“I'd laugh but I feel like you’re not joking.”

“I'm not. You have a silver fox thing going for you now.”

“I am not that old.” He tugged down his sweatpants and nipped at the skin on her neck.

“You're old.”

“You're 38.”

“Who is?”

He pushed her underwear to the side and rubbed his thumb against her clit.“I forgot you're not claiming it.”

She hummed, lowering herself onto the length of him,“When I look it, I'll claim it.”

Jordan knew better than to start moving without giving her a reasonable adjusting period.

“How come I have to claim 40?”

“Because you're a hot 40.” Beyoncé briefly considered trying to scoot her hips instead of actually riding him out of laziness but it seemed unfair on his birthday so she summoned the willpower to lift up and bring herself back down.

“You're the sexiest 38 year old I’ve ever seen.” He was groaning in between his words, a look of awe, just at her, not her actions, still found it's way into his eyes.

“Didn't you date one when you were like 20?”

“She was weird. You're sexier and-shit, you fuck me better.”

His hand pressed into her lower back and he dug his heels into the mattress meeting her thrusts with his own. Short whines escaping his lips just because of how wet she was.

“To be fair, I do have like 17 years of practice.”

“That's fucking crazy to think about.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and a squeak pushed out of her throat,“We're old.”

“I'm old.”

“Just as long as you know when I turn 40 it won't be old.”

“Of course not,” He lifted his shirt over his head, then placed his hands on her hips, steadying them, “Want me to do it?”

“Please? I'm dying.”

He laid back and she let her head fall onto his chest, throatily sighing while he pounded into her.

He got her out of her bra which kind of bummed her out because she had planned a really cute way to take it off when she finished her dance.

His thumb traced her bottom lip and he tipped her chin up to do the same with his tongue.

“Turn over.”

“Huh?”

“Huh? I said turn over.”

She turned so that her back was pressed against his chest and her legs between his. Their fingers intertwined and squeezed at her breasts and he wasted no time pushing back inside her, fucking her hard enough to shift the headboard into the wall. She was nearing tears but she soldiered on just because it was his birthday and she could just lie there any of the other 364 days of the year. One of his hands, still being held by hers ran down her waist and rubbed at her clit sending her over the edge, illustrated with stuttering hips and tiny yelps that turned into giggling.

She moved off of him, kissed at his chin.

“Where do you wanna finish, cowboy?”

He frowned, “This is a real Buridan’s Ass situation.”

“If I was you, I'd pick my mouth.”

“Because?"

“Because what kind of birthday is it if you don't get at least a little head?”

“Good point.”

She ducked down and took him into her mouth as far as she could and he placed his hand on the back of her neck to help guide her. Usually she'd take her time and relish in the sound of him cursing under his breath but he wasn't in a patient mood and neither was she. She ran her tongue from the tip to his balls, sucking at them and licking back to the top.

It wasn't her first time noticing, but when he wasn’t using it to be an absolute fucking demon it was nice to look at. She informed Jordan of this in between teasing at the head with the tip of her tongue. “I know I've told you this before but you have a really cute dick,”

“It's not cute.”

“It's disastrous and every time I let it smack me in the face I lose a brain cell but it's a pretty color.”

“Baby, shut up.”

Beyoncé figured it best to take his advice and went back to trying to fit him all in her mouth. She’d stick her tongue out and let spit drip down his length and try to catch it before it reached the base. Playing stupid games like that was how she kept it fun for so many years, seeing Jordan happy was a plus.

She felt him throbbing against her tongue and focused her efforts on the tip, using both hands to jerk him off the rest of the way until he came, fucking her mouth and biting at his lip.

He pulled her up and kissed her, open mouthed, tasting himself on her tongue.

“You're the worst.”

“I'm awful.”

“Why'd you pick that song?”

“It fit and I like it.”

“I wanna pick my next birthday gift now.”

“You're getting oddly specific and detailed these days.”

“It's easy.”

“What?”

“You know how you had the whip in case I was bad?”

“...Yeah?”

“That's what I want.”

“You want me to tie you up too?”

“You're so smart.”

“I was kidding.”

“But…”

She kissed her teeth, “You know damn well I'm gonna do it.”

**Author's Note:**

> romance...it lives


End file.
